


In Love and Out of Line

by CorvidCuriosities (AvianAtrocities), lesbienne



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other, fluffy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 16:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvianAtrocities/pseuds/CorvidCuriosities, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbienne/pseuds/lesbienne
Summary: It's Stupid O'clock and some jets are in love and also gay.





	In Love and Out of Line

**Author's Note:**

> there's not enough tcwarp literally anywhere so we thot we'd share
> 
> If this reads a little funny, you can probably guess why.

 It's about three in the morning on their side of Earth, though it didn't really matter when the sun didn't reach the depths of the ocean where the Victory laid dormant. Inside the utilitarian spaceship built from stolen resources, the Decepticons lurked, waiting, watching, planning.

Except for Skywarp.

While the rest of the on-shift scuttled around plotting, much like the crabs outside, the purple seeker was busy skipping his thrusters over the nearly identical welds that lined the corridor from the mess hall all the way to the war room. While technically on guard duty, there was nothing wrong with having a little fun to keep himself occupied.

 _Thud._ Step on a crack, break your mother's back. _Thud._

He sang the little ditty to himself, a rhyme he had heard on the television that he borrowed from Rumble. With not much to do, stranded on the sea floor on an alien planet in the middle of a millennia-long war, human media made good entertainment. 

Skywarp wished he was watching _As The Kitchen Sinks_ or _Wheel of Fortune_ instead of skipping up and down the ship, waiting for Autobot intruders than never came. _Usually_ never came.

 

One bot can’t patrol the entire ship effectively – so Thundercracker was stuck on guard duty too, on a different patrol route than his trinemate. He wasn’t paying much attention, but hadn’t degraded to playing human games just yet.

But he was getting close. The chances of an Autobot intruder were slim to none, and guard duty was consequently always So. Slagging. Boring. Not even he possessed that kind of infinite patience. 

He was supposed to pass Skywarp soon, at least, and perked up a little at the thought of seeing the purple seeker. Despite the many years that had passed, he still missed him when they weren’t together. Everything was too quiet, too still.

He definitely planned on stealing at least one kiss before they had to be split up again.

 

Two breems of skipping down the habsuite halls came with three different complaints from annoyed Cons over the sound of Skywarp's thrusters echoing dully through the ship. The first one had been Hook, whom Skywarp at least tried to oblige until he was a few doors down, the next two had been from Drag Strip whom he ignored entirely and altogether until Motormaster's voice threatened from the darkness of the open doorway.

He started skipping again once he was out of the residential sector. 

It was a little while later than the thrum in his spark got a little louder, the trinebond got a little warmer, and the familiar sight of two beautiful blue wings appeared down the dim corridor. Disregarding even more protocol, Skywarp _vopped_ mid-skip and reappeared in Thundercracker's personal space, tackling the other seeker in a hug.

" _TC!_ " He shouted in a whisper, smothering himself in Thundercracker's neck like he hadn't seen him in vorns, even though it had only been a few joors. "I missed you so much I was going to _die_."

 

Thundercracker had braced himself as soon as he felt Skywarp’s presence and heard his thrusters clacking inconsistently against the floor alongside his own pace, so he wasn’t surprised when his mate suddenly appeared in front of him and was able to catch his hug without falling over.

He tries to chide – “It’s only been a couple of hours,” – but the warmth in his spark and the smile on his face gave him away easily if his return embrace hadn’t already.

There weren’t a lot of good things about being in a claustrophobic warship sunken in the darkest depths of Earth’s ocean, only getting out to fly for raids or practice and hardly ever for fun. Skywarp was basically a million good things rolled into one stunning package that made the situation bearable, and Thundercracker had an increasingly difficult time pretending like he didn’t miss him just as much when they simply had different shifts assigned.

Remembering his promise to himself, he pushes Skywarp back just far enough to catch his lips in a kiss that would promise more, if they had more time and weren’t in the middle of a public corridor. He can’t help smiling into it thinking they’re probably going to get in trouble just for this.

 

"It feels like forever--" Skywarp countered, only to be caught off guard by Thundercracker's kiss. Stunned but happily surprised, he reciprocated with the sort of fervor that came naturally to him, easily deepening the melding of mouths into a warm, wet mess that ended with the other seeker pushed against a dark purple bulkhead, trapped by the overzealous teleporter.

"TC," whined the black and purple jet, bright optics even brighter in the dim of the night cycle.

They had already fallen behind on their patrol by a quarter breem by just kissing, but Skywarp couldn't bear to part with Thundercracker already. Even though they lived together. Even though they would be off shift in a few more joors. He was licking his lips as he stared at the blue jet's mouth, already missing that.

He pawed a purple servo over the shining gold of his mate's cockpit, face twisting into a devious grin.

"You wanna mess around?"

 

Thundercracker lets himself be pinned against the bulkhead by the - only slightly - shorter seeker, relishing in the deepening of the kiss and being more than a little disappointed when Skywarp pulled away.

They had to get back to their jobs, but his resolve had always been weak against his more insistently playful mate. And that resolve crumbled even faster looking at familiar, shining red optics casting a faint glow in the dark.

"We'll get in trouble," he pointed out anyway. "Got grounded for a week, last time." But he wasn't saying no, lacing his fingers with those of the servo on his cockpit and bringing his other hand around to brush at the small of Skywarp's back, resting it just above the curve of his aft.

 

"We'll get in trouble if we get caught," Skywarp said with a certain amount of smugness that he shouldn't have possessed, seeing as they had been caught nearly every time they had snuck off to canoodle since they had joined the war. But hey, maybe this time would be different.

The purple seeker presses into the blue one, engines rumbling in a low purr as he chased after Thundercracker's touch. The intangible force of his field pulsed his desire, meshing into the other's with a teasing sort of pull. _C'mon_ , he whispered through the metaphysical tie that bound them. _It'll be okay_.

In conjunction with the tempting words of seduction, Skywarp kisses Thundercracker's jaw, warm and wet and hungry. Servos tease the edges of chassis seams, black wings fan out in an obscene display of sexuality. They'd been tangled in each other for nearly a breem now, duties all but forgotten as the two lovers wrapped around each other like a pair of academy students.

 

They would definitely get caught, and it would be okay, eventually. Probably. Starscream got cranky if he and Skywarp were grounded for too long, and a cranky Starscream meant an irritated Megatron which meant unhappy Everyone Else. They'd be ungrounded within the week.

And the warm pull of arousal and reassurance from both the bond and Skywarp's field was more than difficult to resist. If any Autobots actually bothered to get in, someone else would have to deal with it.

Thundercracker growls lowly while Skywarp still has his mouth on his jaw, in that way he knows the other seeker loves. He moves to get his servos on pretty black wings and a knee between constantly enticing thighs. 

Feelings were exchanged through the bond in some vague alikeness of actual words, a language only understood by them - _yours, however you want me._

Because right now, Thundercracker didn't really care who was doing what; he just wanted Skywarp, in any way possible before they were inevitably interrupted.

 

Thundercracker's servos tease obscenely over Skywarp's wings, sending his aileron's fluttering in delight in the same sort of way that his spark does within his lasercore. He leaned up against the other jet, grin ghosting over the jutting edge of his dark face, optics casting a warm glow over the both of them.

In response to the unspoken promise, the teleporter lets his hand drift downwards, leaving behind the curve of Thundercracker's chest for the heating plane of his codpiece. The purple servo thumbs against the seams there, palming the warm metal as Skywarp bites playfully at the blue jet's chin.

They were definitely going to get in trouble for this, but Skywarp was going to make it fun. And give Soundwave a show, the stinking peeper.

With a devious glance to his partner, Skywarp flicked his wings, then slid to his knees, replacing the familiar hand with an equally familiar glossa that licked a long, broad stripe up the clean white of Thundercracker's pelvic plating. 

 _Open sesame_ , Warp chirruped through their bond, looking both endearing and embarrassing between TC's legs.

 

Thundercracker's hands find the back Skywarp's helm and the tip of a wing out of habit when the purple seeker goes to his knees and TC lets out a keen noise at the mouth on his plating. It doesn't take any more convincing for him to slide the panelling covering his spike housing back with Warp looking up at him like that, playful eagerness radiating through the bond.

His spike's pressurized against his mate's cheek with a speed that would be embarrassing if it was anyone else he was with; and as good as the image is, it could definitely be better. He pets up Skywarp's wing and runs a thumb over its tip, manipulating the sensitive metal with an ease only thousands of years of practice brings. 

Then he lets himself actually talk, quiet to match stillness and dark of the corridor and optics not once leaving Warp's face. "Hey beautiful, you got a plan down there?"

 

Skywarp's response is a snorting laugh, entirely too genuine for someone who spent most of his time creating chaos at his peers' expense. But, the sound is filled with mirth and affection, a truer version of the black jet that didn't often see the light of day in these weary times.

"You know it," he answers back, pressing his smiling face against the warm spike with another snicker. Then coyly wrapping his fist around the protrusion, Skywarp's crimson optics twinkle dangerously as he looks up at his mate, "Don't make too much noise, Thundercracker."

Then next moment he has the other seeker's spike deep within his intake. Self-control has never been a strong trait for 'Warp, and the cock poking the back of his throat is a physical reminder of that. He almost laughs around the length, but ends up choking on it as well as his hubris.

Ignoring the burn, he turns his attention back up towards Thundercracker, optics watering but cheeks dimpled as he flutters his wings, excitement thick in his field.

 

The gentle grip on his wing falters briefly, accompanied by a surprised huff of breath above Skywarp when he takes as much of Thundercracker as he can fit into his mouth at once - said blue jet has to stop himself from bucking into the wet heat like his hips wanted to do for reluctance to choke his overeager mate even more.

Thundercracker sends a wordless half-chide of something like " _Careful, Warp_ " and a ripple of amusement through the bond. It works well enough (sometimes better than enough - you'd have to bother to read a comm) in lieu of actually talking. If they kept up the quiet long enough, he might actually get to reciprocate sooner rather than later.

 The moment of pause is used to bring a thumb from the hand still on the back of Skywarp's helm around to wipe at the corner of one teary optic. Thundercracker can't pretend like he doesn't love this routine of insubordination they'd made - excitement and lust heavy in his field as it was. He doles out profuse encouragement - " _Go on._ "

 

" _Like you need to tell me,_ " Skywarp shoots back, but his field is lighthearted and playful, his eyes twinkling in spite of the solvent smeared on his lenses.

He takes a long, luxurious taste of Thundercracker's intimate hardware, savoring the taste of his trinemate and lover on his glossa, the familiar musk of his frame simultaneously comforting and arousing. Another suckle like he was enjoying a good piece of energon candy, then he gave an evil glance to his partner.

Slowly, he pulls Thundercracker's spike from his mouth, lips taut around his width, glossa flat and broad against the underside of his length. Bit by bit, he pulls the intrusion out until he has only the head of the other seeker's cock in his mouth, which he laves over with his tongue, cursory and quick. The tip of his glossa rubs against the slit where transfluid beads, then flicks.

Skywarp looks up at him again, a smile on his face despite the spike in his mouth.

" _Are you having fun?_ " He asks, teasing.

Then, he takes him fully again, wings flapping in excitement as he feels the tip of his dick against the back of his throat. 

" _Frag, I love your spike._ "

 

It was obvious Thundercracker was having a _lot_ of fun, if the way his helm fell back and his ventilations hitched at his lover's administrations were any indicator. Still, he sends out an enthusiastic affirmation just as Skywarp takes his spike fully into his mouth again, wings twitching involuntarily against the bulkhead. There's a consequent annoying scraping noise of metal on metal, but it's not too loud - the blue seeker barely notices.

A moment later he's smiling at Warp's abstract declaration and looking back down at him, a pulse of arousal going right through from his spark to his dick at the sight. " _It loves you too,_ " he teases back.

He has to press his aft against the wall to keep himself from just fucking into his mate's mouth, wanting to let him have his fun first. Thundercracker runs his digits across the back of Skywarp's helm, a caress in a soothing pattern. He was still trying to smile around the spike otherwise occupying his mouth, which was so stupidly endearing that Thundercracker couldn't help the rush of disgustingly sweet affection he sent at his trinemate through their bond. " _Hey, I love you._ "

 

Skywarp grins even wider around Thundercracker's spike and nearly gags himself on it, face quickly contorting from lovestruck and lusty to watery and apologetic. All the same, he seems happy to return to the act of intimacy, playful glossa teasing at the underside of the blue seeker's dick, servos gripping at white hips, thumbs massaging into warm plating.

It was all going exceptionally well. Skywarp had even released his own panel to let his spike swell and bob uselessly in the air, dripping without a single touch.

 While the two jets entertained themselves, careful steps down the long hall sounded, oblivious to the impending disaster.

Skywarp certainly hadn't heard the incoming figure, too engrossed in their obscene activity.

 

It wasn't until he was within immediate range of the two seekers that Breakdown realizes what the couple were in the middle of doing. With a surprised gasp,  the Stunticon freezes in place, paralyzed by a mix of fear, shock and abject  _horror_.

 

And true to his usual self, Skywarp remains blissfully unaware of their company, happily gorging himself on Thundercracker's intimate hardware.

 

Thundercracker was not so lucky as to not notice their sudden accidental voyeur, frozen in place and staring at them from not even 5 feet away. He pings his mate insistently even as his hips move unconsciously to meet the purple jet halfway. _Warp – Warp, we have company._

Not that his hands leave the back of his mate’s helm, nor was he about to push Skywarp off at this point. So Thundercracker just stares at Breakdown in a mild panic as overload draws increasingly, embarrassingly closer.

And then, for whatever fucking reason, his processor decides the appropriate reaction is to lift the hand still on Skywarp’s wing to wave.

 

They might be grounded for longer than a week this time.

 

Skywarp had more important things to worry about. Things that didn't involve a stray Stunticon and did revolve around the fat, impossibly warm, wonderful spike that was lugnuts deep in his intake.

But Thundercracker was the sort of seeker that would be horrified by the accidental voyeurism and Skywarp could already feel his mate filling with an ice cold panic. 

A little annoyed at the interruption, the purple seeker lets his partner’s spike slide out of his mouth with a wet pop and stands, licking his lips with a mildly irritated expression. Turning on his heels, he fixes his attention to the nervous statue named Breakdown. He wipes his intake on the back of his forearm, then stalks over to the petrified young Decepticon. 

“C’mon,” he says gruffly, dropping a heavy servo on the mech’s trembling shoulder.

They both disappear in an instant in a flash of neon purple, only for the crackle of energy to reappear a moment later, leaving Skywarp in its wake.

He says nothing about the now-missing Stunticon, and instead strides back over to Thundercracker with a dangerous glint in his optics, a wild grin on his face.

“How do you want me?” Skywarp says deeply as he snakes his arms around the blue seeker’s neck, nudging his nose against the warm gray of his cheek.

 

Thundercracker blinks and Skywarp is already back from depositing their unfortunate onlooker wherever he saw fit, instantly back in his mate's personal space and wrapping his arms around his neck, calming the brief moment of loneliness felt by the blue jet when he'd been suddenly left in a dark corridor with his spike out. 

Skywarp nuzzles his cheek; optics sparkling, a grin on his face. Warm, beautiful - and Thundercracker really did appreciate him taking care of Breakdown. Add bold and fast to the list of the innumerable compliments he could give ; even if he wasn't still charged up, he couldn't have resisted.

He moves his helm to catch the other seeker in a proper kiss, hands wandering from his wings to his aft and dipping into the seams of his armor, too quickly to do anything but tease. It's only when he got to Skywarp's valve cover that he added any weight to his touches, pressing his palm against it and nonchalantly rubbing two digits where his anterior node would be underneath the metal.

Thundercracker uses his advantageous position to pull his trinemate closer, bucking into the feeling of their spikes sliding together and moaning briefly into the mouth still against his.

It's only when they pull apart to vent that he answers, voice dropping so they wouldn't be heard. He taps gently at where he'd been stroking small circles on Skywarp's paneling.

"I think you know what I want."

 

Apparently unfazed by the previous moment of being caught sucking his wingmate's spike ( _while_ his own was out), Skywarp lets out a low groan of approval into Thundercracker's mouth, relishing the taste of the other on his glossa and the way their metal melded so easily together.

Servos start to wander, charge crackles up one seeker's frame and arcs to the other, creating a short snap of light between them that physically depicts the pull between their sparks. Another zap of electricity, coupled with the clever fingers at his panels, and Skywarp's final inhibition pulls back, revealing warm, wet mesh to the black servo that paws at him.

He loves the glint in Thundercracker's eyes, the smirk on his lips. The arms wrapped around his mate squeeze in anticipation and affection, his own mouth grinning as he chases after the tender cables of the other mech's neck; He sloppily kisses on the dark mesh with a snortle.

"Come on and get it," Skywarp cheekily spurs him on, sliding a dark black thigh against deep blue, pressing white hips together. His spike twitches against Thundercracker's, and he knows because his smile grows even more lopsided. "You know I like it when you ‘clap in my aft."

 

Thundercracker's eyes roll at Skywarp's dirty talk, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betray his amusement. Two of his digits slip easily into welcoming, wet heat and 'Warp's mouth returns to his neck, both of them caught up in a dance made easy by years of practice. It never stopped being fun.

 His fingers crook inside his mate's valve while his palm stays pressed against his swollen node - not allowing enough friction there for an easy overload. The foreplay wasn't exactly necessary, especially not for what was supposed to be a quick tryst in the middle of a work shift - it was just fun to tease Skywarp.

He scissors his digits lazily, drags them along internal nodes as he pulls them almost all the way out, letting them linger at the pliable mesh of his partner's entrance. His other hand moves from his back to trace over the well-mapped span of Skywarp's chest, stopping to mess with sensitive turbines. "I dunno, 'Warp," he drawls, "I can't tell if you really want it that bad."

 

Fingers dip inside Skywarp's channel and the dark mech finds himself sighing his pleasure with a tremble against Thundercracker, whom he was now holding onto like he was the only thing anchoring him to the world. And he kind of was really, if you asked 'Warp. 

"Tee- _Cee_ ," the teleporter whines breathlessly as he chases after Thundercracker's teasing fingers with a desperate groan, wings shuddering when his sensor nodule receives the gentlest touch. "How many Stunticons do I have to throw off the observation tower to get you to frag me?"

He punctuates his airy complaint with begging kisses to the blue jet's chin, lips, face. Everything about him, his wings, his field, his face, all ooze with need and want, but Skywarp is slow to beg straight up. Their cockpits bump together as one seeker moves to rub his interface array on the other's thigh once again, smearing the now leaking lubricant with a bitten-back mewl. 

"Oh, slag-- Just give it to me," Skywarp wails quietly, mashing his lips against Thundercracker's. "I want us to leave dents in the wall, I want you to leave dents in _me_."

 

Skywarp’s grip is enough to dent Thundercracker’s own plating, but he really could not care less at this point. It’s impossible to care with the purple jet grinding his array against his thigh, impossible to care with his spike aching as much as it was. He never did get to overload before the interruption. Briefly, he wonders if he should be more concerned for their hapless voyeur. Very briefly.

“No more Stunticons,” Thundercracker promises, breathless and smiling against his lover’s mouth, bringing his arms around to fully wrap around Skywarp’s waist. “And no dents we can’t buff out later.” 

Using a strength usually only reserved for fighting, he does something a lot more important that’ll have a way better payoff – turns them both around so Skywarp’s the one pressed up against the bulkhead, lifts him up just enough by the back of his thighs, leaving a smattering of kisses on the well-mapped and well-loved expanse of the other seeker’s neck all the while. He could slip inside ‘Warp so easily like this; but he lingers still, holding him in place. 

He loves this. He loves the world seeming to shrink, loves the time when all there is to focus on is something as simple as chasing an overload, _loves Skywarp_. He just wants to stay here, kissing his jawline, listening to his barely audible noises of want.

But his own lust wins out in the end. It’s not long before he’s hilted inside his trinemate’s valve, venting harshly at the heat. And still not moving, watching Skywarp’s handsome face for any sign of discomfort. An old habit he’d picked up when they were both younger, and Skywarp even more reckless. It still proved handy sometimes.

“You ready?”

 

They switch places and Skywarp wriggles his wings against the cold bulkhead, grinning wide and optics nearly closed in lust. He loved this, loved Thundercracker. There had never been anyone else who could make him feel like this, beautiful and wanted, something precious and more then just a berthmate.

The kisses that come from that handsome blue jet always whispered loving admiration when they covered his body like thousands of little flutterbys.

 Skywarp's spark ached in a way that hurt _so good._ He tightened his embrace around his partner and felt like he could never be close enough to Thundercracker. 

The overwhelming fullness came when TC's spike slide inside him, warm and familiar, sending sparks of charge up his sensory net as pressure built and pleasure rose. Skywarp unconsciously made a noise at the intrusion, tightened his legs around Thundercracker and let the other mech hold him completely by the strength of his arms and cock.

"If you don't move soon I'm gonna--" Skywarp warned, or maybe threatened, but he wasn't sure which and it didn't matter much anyway, because it was cut off by a wailing moan as the dark jet threw his head back and shuddered around Thundercracker's length.

" _Please!_ "

 

Thundercracker’s field softens impossibly further with affection in response to Skywarp’s frantic wriggling against him. He thrusts once, just because he’s having trouble keeping his own hips still with his spike buried in rippling heat, shallow and barely a whisper of anything actually satisfying for either of them. But this is more important, burying his face in the crook of his mate’s neck, leaving gentle kisses and not-so-gentle bites and just trying to get the other seeker to relax.

Because if they did this too fast, and if ‘Warp was too loud, they’d get interrupted again. And there was no way in the pit anyone was going to split them up now – at least, Thundercracker wouldn’t let them. “Hold on, I’ve got you,” he promises softly, just before another slow grind into Skywarp’s valve, base of his spike housing just barely pressing against ‘Warp’s node. The soft whine he gets in return sends his own charge flaring, and earns his mate a deep, hungry kiss.

Okay, maybe he also liked teasing Skywarp a little. Thundercracker can admit that as he starts rocking into him at a steadier pace, careful not to slam metal against metal. At least not yet, not while they’ve both still got some awareness of trying to not get caught. If they get discovered later than this, they’d be too busy with each other to notice – Thundercracker wasn’t about to leave this unfinished.

 

" _Thundercracker..._ " Skywarp moaned as he throbbed around his mate's intimate hardware. He swore he could feel his spark beating in his anterior node-- Charge ran freely between them, intangible and tantalizing, their fields meshed together just as perfectly as their bodies.

He clung to the blue seeker, red optics fogged over with desire. Legs around Thundercracker's hips, frames scraping together, one servo gripping uselessly at the wall of the _Victory,_  the other groping passionately at one of those gorgeous wings. Each movement produces a wet noise from Skywarp's soaked valve and draws a new tremble from the black seeker's excited frame, a shudder that causes his wings to clatter against the bulkhead.

" _More,_ " he begs hoarsely, at least making an effort to keep his voice down at the moment. "Please, TC-- Give me more. I need you, I need you so deep I can taste it."

 

“What’s the rush?” Thundercracker purrs in Skywarp’s audial, smirk obvious in his tone even as he picks up the pace, sighing at the additional friction. “I could do this all day.”

And he could – Skywarp is always so responsive, so good with his hands still on Thundercracker’s wings, never too rough. So hot, wet, wanting, and TC was never going to get tired of it. If they were anywhere else, if it were any other time, he’d want nothing more than to make ‘Warp scream against the bulkhead.

But he was kind of forgetting about that, hearing his mate’s wings clatter against the wall. So he drives into him faster, abandoning some of his reservations and dedication to staying quiet. He focuses on the movement, the tight heat surrounding his spike, the zaps of charge dancing between their frames; intangible but still so real. Skywarp’s handsome face, twisted in pleasure, making Thundercracker smile dumbly at him.

He stops for a nanosecond, hilting himself and grinding, whispering sweet nothings against ‘Warp’s jaw between his own quiet gasps and moans. It wasn’t fair, he knew – Thundercracker was naturally quiet in berth, and his mate definitely was not. It was one of his favorite things about him, actually. He’s reminded of this when he moves again and Skywarp sings, beautiful in his need. It almost undoes Thundercracker right then and there.

To fuckin' pit with worrying about getting caught.

  


If he was being honest, Skywarp could happily do this all day too, but knowing their luck, it would hardly be another two breems before Soundwave came chasing after them while waving a stick. Or a cassette.

Another hefty thrust from Thundercracker knocks the foolish train of thought out of Skywarp's foolish head, leaving the jet groaning languidly with his head tilted back and wings arched high. TC was _so good_ at this.

 Servos gripping at his mate's shoulders, Warp made another garbled sound of pure, unadulterated sexual pleasure and shuddered against him, valve rippling around the adored intrusion currently serenading his frame.

"Don't stop," he whines, deep voice even deeper as lust and love bleed into it. "TC  _please_  don't stop."

Drool was already dribbling out of the corner of Skywarp's mouth, adding another layer of completely wrecked to his demeanor, along with his hazy optics and brightly lit cheeks. His thrusters dug into the blue seeker's aft and urged him on while Skywarp leaned in and swallowed his mouth in another desperate kiss.

 

Skywarp feels so damn good Thundercracker actually forgets how words work, hot wet silk encasing his spike, pleasure from that core point spreading throughout his whole frame. When ‘Warp’s kissing him all he can think of is how gorgeous he is, and how badly he always wants him like this. He swears up and down while he’s practically pounding into his mate that he’s never going to get tired of this, never going to get over how well they always fit together. 

When they pull apart again Thundercracker can fully appreciate the ruined state ‘Warp’s gotten into, can actually register the heels digging into his aft as if he needed any encouragement. “Never gonna stop,” he promises. His face is stupidly honest with emotion, smiling dumbly at Skywarp like he was the best damned thing Primus ever saw fit to grace the universe with. If you asked Thundercracker, he was.

“You gotta overload before someone finds us though,” he says, punctuating the statement with another thrust, fast and as deep into that beloved frame as he can get. He’s aware his voice is probably too quiet, vaguely strained to keep from being too noisy. He’s not far from overload himself, can feel the charge crackling over his frame and pooling between his hips. But he always liked to hear Skywarp’s voice more. “Or you won’t get one for hours.”

 

At Thundercracker's well-meaning warning, Skywarp let out a wordless whine, arching into the other seeker's touch with the sort of hunger that could never be sated-- He could never get enough of TC. But, he knew his bondmate was right, it wouldn't be long before Breakdown crawled out of the ocean and riled up the rest of his gestalt and besides, he was already really close to overload anyway.

TC was _really good_ at making love.

Skywarp flushed an even darker shade of purple, suddenly embarrassed by his own poorly strung together thoughts about how no one had ever loved him like Thundercracker did, sweet and strong, earnest in the way that he kissed him like he meant it and like he meant the world to him in turn.

He grasped his wingmate closer and mewled as he shuddered around the spike that dragged so blissfully over his most sensitive equipment. Overload took him at the combined efforts of Thundercracker's skill and the mere thought of being caught like this, pinned against a wall and fragged in the middle of a hallway.

Oral solvent leaked from his mouth- latched onto TC's neck- while lubricant leaked audibly from his stuffed valve and onto the floor. Skywarp's thighs trembled around the set of white hips, purple servos groped at the ailerons that fluttered so close-- He wanted the other seeker to join him in climax and he broadcasted that desire to him.

" _Stay inside,_ " the dark jet begged, voice hoarse with use. " _I want you inside._ "

 

Thundercracker wasn’t a violent mech – okay, he could be _dangerous_ , had to be, but that was a different thing entirely - he didn’t like fighting for the sake of it. But right now, with Skywarp pulling him closer and overloading so desperately around his spike, he knows if anyone tried to split them up they’d get blasted in the face without a second thought. His pace stutters, his own overload imminent from the cycling of his mate’s valve and the attention to his ailerons.

What really gets him, though, is ‘Warp’s voice in his audials, begging him to stay inside as if Thundercracker would even dream of doing anything else right then, unless he was told to stop. He’s vaguely aware of his own valve as he picks his pace back up, lubricant starting to drip out the seams of its cover in empathetic arousal. All his attention is rerouted, though, when he finally does overload, breathing out Skywarp’s name as quietly as he can despite him not being able to do anything about the loud growl of his engines. His processor was still attached to the idea of stealth, futile as it was at this point. He hilts himself and almost smacks their helms together in his sudden urgency to be kissing lips he swore he could still taste himself on.

When they’d both come down and the aftershocks had stopped, when Thundercracker had gently pulled out and they’d both closed their panels and sunk to the floor in a mess of clinging limbs that didn’t want to be apart again just yet, he realizes how much of a mess they’d managed to make. On the floor, the wall, on ‘Warp. Megatron might favor them, but…

“How long d’you think ‘til someone comes to yell at us?”

 

If there was truly an AfterSpark, a heaven for their kind after this trashfire of a life, Skywarp was absolutely certain that it could never be as good as this, as beautiful and fulfilling as Thundercracker pressed deep inside him, arms around him and handsome, perfect lips whispering his name at the peak of his ecstasy. Nothing could ever be as good as this. 

The pleasurable little shocks of a dwindling overload zip through his weary frame as the two fall to the floor in a heap of insubordinate passion, two bodies sticky with love and wrapped around each other in that simple way that felt so natural. Skywarp cracked a grin as he nestled his face into Thundercracker's neck, nuzzling and kissing the heated metal of his mate with all the adoration he could physically show. 

"Who cares," the purple jet slurs quietly, lips on that artistic jut of TC's jaw. "If anyone comes I'll just whoosh us away. They can't throw us in the brig if they can't catch us." And then Skywarp laughs, because the thought of being punished for making love during war is so _novel_ to him. There would probably be consequences for playing literal grab-ass, but he was sure he could poke at one of the handful of higher-ups to let him take on Thundercracker's supposed punishment.

He was the one who got him in this mess anyway.

Skywarp kept his blue counterpart in his embrace for a moment longer, happy to be close, to smell and touch and taste him.

"I love you," he whispers tenderly.

 

Something between a snort and a soft laugh bubbles its way out of Thundercracker's vocalizer. "If we could just warp away from all our problems, we wouldn't have any," he says - though it's not derisive, and the wave of affection and amusement he sends over their bond shows that. And maybe there's a bit of longing in it, too, the desire to just run away with Skywarp and skip out on the whole war only a whisper of a thing. It wouldn't happen, not for a lot of reasons. 

His arms tighten around his mate just slightly. This is his favorite place to be, holding him and being held in return; it's a place of comfort, safety, and contentment, and Thundercracker would fight a million wars as long as he could come back here after every battle.

His response of " _I love you too_ ," is as much felt as it is said. It's evident in the gentle kiss he places on 'Warp's helm and every cautious pulse of his EM field, usually so tightly restrained outside of a good fuck. Skywarp was one of the very few mechs, and had been the first, allowed to read it. 

 

"If I could just warp away from my problems, I would," Skywarp replies lazily, tracing nonsense into Thundercracker's beautiful wing. "I've tried though, and it doesn't work most of the time. It's pretty good for some stuff, though."

There was still a half of a shift that they both needed to finish, regardless of how they had spent most of the first half leaving dents in the wall, but guard duty was one of the less intensive jobs and Skywarp wasn't too stressed about it. Anything important would be caught by Soundwave before either of them would have somehow managed to find intruders or something in the lower levels of the ship, leagues beneath the surface.

So yeah, Skywarp didn't feel guilty at all as he wiggled himself against Thundercracker and dipped their mouths together for a long, tender kiss.

He was never going to get over how much he loved him.

In spite of the lovebirds' lovemaking, the rest of the world went on and one _particularly_ angry aspect of the world was storming down the corridors with a wet, shivering mass of blue and white Stunticon under one arm.

While most of Skywarp's problems couldn't be avoided with a simple dis-placement and re-placement of mass, this was one of those instances in which he _could_. So when the purple seeker heard a thunderous approach over the sound of his own lovesick purring, he used what Primus gave him and removed both himself and his paramour out of the path of the rampaging Motormaster.

They reappeared in the showers and Skywarp grinned cheekily, arms around Thundercracker.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted w/ thanks to and permission from my baby lesbienne, love u oxoxo
> 
> more later Perhaps


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